La Luna
by Mina3
Summary: An introspective postGoF moment for Remus and Sirius. Part of the DAYG universe.


**La Luna**  
by Mina

  


Standard disclaimers for _Harry Potter_ apply. In other words, I own absolutely nothing other than the wacky plot idea; the characters and world belong to the wonderful J. K. Rowling. 

**Warnings:** Slash, fic author conjectures up the wazoo, etc. etc. SPOILERS for _PoA_ and _GoF_. This has some ties with my monster fic (ch', aren't _all_ of my fics monster fics) _Deep As You Go_, but not a whole lot. It was simply a fun look at Moony and Padfoot in a less traumatic situation. 

**A/N:** Bluebells are a flower used to denote constancy—in my opinion, a perfect flower for Moony and Padfoot. 

* * *

It was an odd sort of house to find in the British countryside, but the residents of the nearby town paid little mind anymore to the high wood-and-iron fences, and the dark, austere brick face that loomed over the top of the fence through the trees. It was an old house to be sure; rumour was that it had been the country estate of an eccentric noble's family in the time of King Henry IV.  
    Now, however, it had only a single occupant, the last of a long line of French minor nobility to own the place. Though no-one ventured up into the hills to Luna Manor except on a dare, the nearby townspeople knew of the house's lone dweller and wondered about him amongst themselves.     He was a decidedly odd chap, though no-one had ever been able to find real fault with him. True, his clothes weren't in the best repair, but his manners were pleasant. And he was attractive despite the silver that laced his tawny hair and the fine lines that framed his wide sherry eyes and sombre mouth.     "There's a boy who's suffered," Granny Ella told her granddaughter one day as the man ambled slowly across the commons, long hair blown over his face by the teasing wind.     "Nana, he's just _old_," the child said, wrinkling her nose.     "No child, not that one—not in body, anyway. Old in heart, old in soul." Granny Ella clucked her tongue, adjusting her spectacles. "That one is heartsick, despite his smile; mark my words, child, he's no more an old man than you're an old woman."     Granny Ella couldn't recall if the man had always lived at Luna Manor or not—some days she thought so, but others she thought him a recent arrival. It was hard to judge his age exactly, for at times he looked near fifty, others like a wide-eyed schoolboy. She went with what her heart told her, however: he'd once been a boy who laughed and smiled and played at mischief, and was now a man afraid he no longer knew how.     Not that his age really mattered. Despite the rumours of haunting at the manor, and despite the usual problems with curious teenage boys, the man was a quiet neighbour—so quiet that, at times, people forgot he was there. 

* * *

"Tom said he saw a bear up in the woods!"  
    "You git—there haven't been bears in the woods for years! Not since the wolves took over. 'Sides, what does Tom know?"     "Yeah. Probably someone's pet dog got loose is all."     The small knot of teens continued their bickering until one of them noticed the black-clad figure strolling across the commons with a battered pack over one shoulder.     "Look, it's Loony Lupin! You know, they say he talks to the wolves."     "Who says? He's just an odd Frenchie who lives alone in the woods. Gotta be rich to afford the Manor, though."     "Then how do you explain the noises that come from the Manor on a full moon, huh? And besides, everyone knows that his family owned the Manor for years; 's the only reason he's still there."     "Maybe…maybe he has a pet?"     "Hey, yeah! Maybe it's his dog that's loose. What'd Tom say it looked like again?"     "Big, black, and shaggy. Like I said, Tom thought it was a bear."     "Should we ask him?"     "What, _talk_ to Loony Lupin?!"     "What's the matter—cat got your tongue?"     "_Wolf_ got your tongue?"     "No! It's just…he's kind of creepy."     A pause of silence. Then—     "Yesterday you said he was hot!"     "Well—well he is! But he's creepy too. There's this brooding, sombre quality to him…. And when he looks at you and smiles, it's like he's looking at somewhere else, someone else. It's disturbing as all hell."     The teens continued to watch Lupin as he came closer, eyes assessing.     "How about we just talk really loud?"     "What for?"     "You know, so he can overhear. That way, if it is his dog—"     "—he'll know and we won't have to talk to him ourselves. Brilliant!"     "Hey, we all get lucky sometime." 

Remus Lupin loved all seasons of the year, but summer was especially his favourite. Everything was alive, pulsing, teeming with frenetic energy. The world was bright and vivid, full of sounds and scents at their peak. And it was warm—Remus' thin frame liked the warmth of summer.  
    It was just coming into July, but it felt more like late July or early August. It was cloud-free and hot, and the humidity was high enough that his hair was flat as a board.     He smiled slightly as he noticed the knot of teens up ahead. No doubt they were out to enjoy the nice day the same way he was.     _School must be out,_ he thought, surprised. Had it really be a whole year now since he'd left Hogwarts? He spent so much time alone in the Manor, and since…since the Incident he'd had no contact with anyone until last year.     _Time passes differently when you close yourself away, Moony._     The smile grew and Remus bowed his head. _Ah, Padfoot. How is it that you haunt me when I least expect it? Your continuous gems of wisdom… You silly, odd,_ lovable_ man._ He shook his head, pulling his mind from woolgathering.     "—big dog."     "How big?"     "Well, Tim said it was black and shaggy. Maybe he's one of those wolfhounds or a cart dog."     "Wonder whose it is. No-one in town has a dog like that."     Remus heard the teens' chattering, and though his interest was piqued enough to look up at the mention of a big black dog, he didn't stop his walking.     _One night. It was the first time in twelve years, and… Damn you, Severus! Thanks to your pride and paranoia, I didn't even get to say 'hullo' let alone 'good-bye.' Wherever you're hiding, Padfoot, try to keep your head attached, hmmm?_     Sighing, he clutched his pack straps just a little bit tighter and bowed his head again, closing off his view of the world in the same way he had closed himself off from the world for twelve years: by refusing to acknowledge its existence.     One foot in front of the other, he continued to shuffle through town, a man who retained rigid control of himself because he hadn't been able to control anything else. 

"…Nothing. He didn't even twitch."  
    "Yeah he did. He smiled!"     "But it wasn't like he usually smiles. He actually looked…happy."     "I still say he's loony. But…"     "But what?"     "But you're right. He's hot." 

* * *

The wind rustled the leaves and pine boughs, sighing waves of green that lapped the sky. A mocker bird was laughing off in the distance somewhere—Remus felt sorry for its target, having been a victim of the raucous laughter many a time. Up ahead on the path, a hare darted from beneath a hedge, veering crazily up the cone-littered trail. It paused to look back at him, eyes wide, breathing heavily before it took off again.  
    He could see the brick and iron gate posts of the manor fence as he rounded the corner. The stone guardians that sat atop them looked down at him in sombre watchfulness, ears perked forward, tails wrapped at their feet as they sat on their haunches.     "Hullo, Romulus. Hullo, Remus."     The muzzles of both statues briefly dipped in acknowledgment as Remus passed between them, amber-gem eyes fixed ever forward. In the world where it seemed Remus had no control over _anything_, it was nice to have something that was always constant.     However, upon reaching the wrought-iron gate, Remus felt as if something wasn't quite right. The air about the manor felt different, felt more…alive. He frowned, keying the spells on the gate and stepping through. Romulus and Remus hadn't indicated that there'd been people snooping around. So, if there hadn't been any strangers about, why did things feel off?     Sherry eyes were watchful as he made his way through the thick garden foliage to the front door. It wasn't just an aura; there was a scent as well—several scents. He paused beside a patch of foxglove, crouching down to sniff the flowers. Yes, there it was again. It was a familiar smell, but he couldn't place it.     Sighing, he rose and brushed his knees off. _Maybe I'm just being paranoid—no, I am paranoid, but I'm probably imagining things this time._     The scent lingered, however, and it grew stronger as he grew closer to the Manor. And despite his thoughts that it was just paranoia and not a real threat, his hand crept down to his waist, feeling for the wand hidden in the voluminous folds.     He slowly rounded the high rose bushes, wand at the ready as his eyes looked left and then right, then towards the stairs—     And he froze.     In a corner of his mind, Remus wondered if he hadn't been alone a bit too long. Because he had to be hallucinating—_had_ to.     But…     The thick-layered fur was mud spattered, matted in spots with tree sap. Needles clung to the ruff of his neck, spots of brown and green. There was a red-and-brown spattered bandage tied about his right front leg. He was sprawled out on the landing, muzzle resting on his unbending leg, staring directly at Remus with unwavering, unusual pale blue eyes.     And pinned between leg and muzzle was a single slip of blue bell.     Remus' numb fingers released his wand as his arm fell to his side, shaking. The pack soon followed, hitting the tiled walk with a clatter as he took a step forward.     Ice and sherry remained locked as Remus placed one foot in front of the other, allowing shaky legs to take him up the steps. Upon reaching the last one, he dropped to his knees, slowly reaching his hand out. "Padfoot?" he whispered in disbelief.     The dog whined, raising his head to butt against Remus' hand.     Blinking, Remus was surprised to find tears trembling in his lashes, falling free to slide down his cheeks. Any other time, he would have chastised himself for losing control, but not right now…not when he had finally been allowed this moment. He ran both hands over the dog's ears, down the back of his head, through the thick fur at his ruff. Familiar…all so familiar and so long missed!     Sitting up, the dog leaned forward, licking the tears from Remus' cheeks, nuzzling his hair.     With a sound that was half laugh, half sob, Remus threw his arms around the dog. He closed his eyes, cheek pressed against the dog's neck. "Hullo, Sirius."     The form in his arms shifted, the fur beneath his cheek becoming long, slightly tangled hair. Thin but iron-strong arms rose to wrap around his ribs, drawing him securely against the thin chest where Remus could feel the heart that echoed his own.     Sirius Black smiled into his friend's sunshine-scented hair. "Hullo, Remus."     And, for a while, nothing more needed to be said. 

* * *

Sirius watched from the comfortable (yet extremely ugly) monstrosity of a chair Remus had sat him in as Remus went to argue with his teapot.  
    "I asked you to heat the water, not whistle Bon Odori music! Damn grandfather and his weird antiques…."     "You've been saying that for how many years, Moony?" Sirius asked with a laugh.     "Too many," grumbled Remus. "Be a good teapot or I'll let the tanuki play with you the next time she comes to visit."     The teapot immediately ceased playing music and began to emit a thin curl of steam.     Remus smiled and patted the teapot. "Good teapot."     Leaving the china to its task, he grabbed a tray with a bowl of water, a washrag, and clean bandages, heading towards Sirius.     Sirius leered as Remus knelt beside him. "My own personal nurse—I'm moving up in the world. And kneeling at my feet too! You know, usually it's women doing that, Moony."     "Yes, Padfoot." With nimble, practised fingers, Remus undid the crude bandage about Sirius' forearm. He wet the washrag down, wiping the skin around the bandage and then wetting the bandage itself so that it would be easier to remove and hopefully wouldn't tear off the scab beneath.     "Look, I even rate a sponge bath!"     "Yes, Padfoot." Slowly he unwound the bandage, frowning at the mottled blue and black flesh and deep, ragged gash beneath. "What did you mess with?" he muttered, gently prodding the wound. It was a little warm beneath his fingers, sticky with blood serum that oozed between the cracks of the new and patchy scab.     Sirius winced despite the tenderness of Remus' touch. "I'm not really sure. It was dark and there wasn't a moon out. I shifted long enough to wrap it and then I was on the move again."     If there hadn't been a moon then it was about two days old. Well, Remus might as well get it cleaned up and see how bad it really was.     One hand lay atop Sirius' arm while he gently swiped the wound with the wet rag, peeling away dirt and grime.     "So what's the prognosis? Are we going to have to amputate, Nurse Moony?"     Remus' lips twitched as his hands continued to work. "No, Padfoot."     Sirius snapped his fingers. "Damn! There goes the automatic sympathy from beautiful women."     The wound wasn't as deep as Remus had originally thought. But it was red about the edges, and there were a few thin striation marks leading from the wound. _Damn—possible blood poisoning._ "Too bad neither of us took Advanced Healing," Remus said lightly, trying to keep his worries to himself.     "Professor Nettles was a boring old fart. I'm surprised I made it through Basic Healing with passing marks; all I ever did was sleep in that class."     "Or cause trouble."     "Who, me?" asked Sirius innocently. "Just because of that time I tried to set Snape's hair on fire…"     "And what about the time you turned Avery's hair green, hmmm? Or the time you "accidentally" slipped houndstongue into my restorative draught? I couldn't sit still all day—or stop laughing."     Sirius grinned unrepentantly. "I had to keep up appearances—you know, the Great Rivalry and all. You understand of course, right Moony?"     "…Yes, Padfoot."     "And I found a way for you to stop laughing later, didn't I?"     "…Yes, Padfoot."     Remus rose and went back to the kitchen. He rummaged through a few packages on the countertop, finally finding the one he needed. He emptied a handful of dried herbs onto some cheesecloth and tied it in a tight bundle. He then put it in a cup and slowly poured the hot water over it until it was completely wet.     "I'll leave this on until tonight," he said, setting the cup down to cool. "Then I'll check it again and change the bandage."     "Perfect Nurse Moony."     Remus bit his tongue on a retort, instead checking the temperature of the poultice. He pulled it from the cup, and, kneeling back at Sirius' side, set it atop the wound, carefully arranging it so it covered the whole thing. He then began to wrap it snug enough so that Sirius would be able to use the arm without hindrance.     He bowed his head as he put everything back on the tray. Fingers at his temple startled him and he stiffened. But all they did was gently comb through the hair that had escaped confinement, a soothing, repetitive motion.     "You've changed."     Remus smiled sadly, and he couldn't keep the hint of bitterness from his voice. "We've both changed. We weren't given much choice in the matter." He pulled back abruptly, grabbing up the tray and striding away.     Sirius watched his jerky movements in understanding, sharing the silent pain. Remus had never been very good at emotions; Sirius had become an expert, years ago, at reading him despite that fact.     "Hey, Moony, wanna do the world a favour?"     He waited until Remus' head tipped slightly to the left; then he knew he had his friend's attention.     "Give me a haircut?" 

They went out into the garden, Sirius carrying a mirror, Remus comb and scissors. Sirius sat in the grass while Remus knelt behind him.  
    The only sound as Remus began to work through the snarls and tangles was the wind as it rustled through foliage, the birds as they chirped their noontime songs, and the comb slowly sliding through hair.     It took nearly a half hour, but Remus finally got the mass to lie flat. It was longer than waist-length, the ends brushing the ground as Sirius sat. He pulled the hair back, looking critically at the ends, which were dry and split. "How much do you want cut off?"     "However much needs to come off."     "Probably about eight inches or so."     "You're the one with the scissors, Moony."     "…Yes, Padfoot."     The scissors snipped slowly across the long mass. Every few cuts Remus would stop and comb through it again to catch any stray hairs he'd missed. Eventually he'd made his way from right to left, and everything appeared to be even. Silently he stood and moved to Sirius' front, re-combing the hair over his shoulders. He trimmed the ragged bangs, tiering the hair around Sirius' face.     "Okay, you can stand up."     Sirius got to his feet, brushing the cut hair from his robes with a sigh. He then ran his hands through his tangle-free hair, smiling. Glancing down, he asked, "How do I look?"     He never once bothered to look at the mirror in his hand.     Remus looked up, eyes sweeping over Sirius' features. Pale, unblemished skin, high and angular cheekbones that were the envy of everyone, to-die-for pouty lips flushed with a hint of colour, ice-blue eyes framed by thick sooty lash, long thin wisps of black dripping into those eyes, framing his angular jaw. The Rake of Gryffindor, he'd been called in his heyday, though he'd never done much to earn that reputation. True, he'd flirted with everything and everyone, but he'd never been promiscuous despite the rumours the Slytherins had tried to start. Remus had found it odd how he could have had anyone he wanted, but he'd been more interested in school and mischief and friendship… Remus shook his head as he looked down at his hands with a small smile. "You look as devastating as ever."     "Coming from the pretty Nurse Moony, high praise indeed!"     Colour touched Remus' cheeks. "Shut up, Padfoot. I am _not_ pretty." _I'm an old and worn man six months your junior who looks sixteen years your senior. Your imprisonment aged me more than it aged you, my friend._     "Remus…"     Hands cupped his cheeks, slowly drawing his face up. Sirius was smiling as he pulled loose the ribbon holding Remus' hair back, running his fingers through the tawny and silver strands. "You will always be pretty, my Remus."     "You're biased."     "Maybe." Sirius shrugged. "It's good to be with you again."     Remus placed his hands over Sirius', closing his eyes. "Yes—yes, it is."     He suddenly felt bone-achingly, soul-achingly tired in that instant; his body and nerves trembled with the sensation.     Sirius drew Remus down in the grass, pillowing Remus' head in his lap. "It's all right now, my Remus," he murmured, petting Remus hair, gliding over his shoulders. "You don't have to be brave anymore, you don't have to worry anymore. I'm here now."     Thin arms wound about Sirius' waist. "Promise?"     Sirius' kissed the top of Remus' head, a sad smile appearing at the childlike question asked on the verge of sleep. "Till I die, my Remus. Till I die." 

* * *

It was just past moonrise when he woke.  
    Fingers trailed languidly through his hair, over his cheek, a repetitive motion that was soothing at the same time it was affectionate. "I can't believe you didn't wake me," Remus murmured between stifled yawns.     "There wasn't any need to."     He rolled over onto his back, looking up into Sirius' face. "But haven't your legs gone to sleep?"     Sirius smiled. "Yeah, but they went numb soon after, so I figured it wasn't a big deal."     Remus wrinkled his nose. "You're an idiot."     "So I've been told."     Carefully sitting up, Remus stretched his arms over his head, another yawn slipping free. "I can't remember the last time I fell asleep out in the garden," he said, turning his head.     Sirius had risen to his feet and his arms were crossed over his abdomen, face tilted towards the waxing sliver of moon. "I can't remember the last time you fell asleep in my arms." He was haloed in the faint light—to Remus' eyes, a study in etched, pale perfection.     However, his words made the blood drain from Remus' face, and he turned quickly away to look down at his hands.     Sirius pulled his gaze away from the moon, frowning when he saw that Remus was huddled in upon himself. "Oh, Moony…" Slowly he sank to his knees, arms sliding around Remus' shoulders and pulling the slightly shorter man into an embrace.     "I'd always counted on your constancy," said Remus after a moment, raising a hand to place it over Sirius'. "Yours and James' and Peter's… And in that last year before James and Lily's deaths, there were so many things going wrong between us, so many harsh words, so many situations misconstrued…so many things not said."     "You're not the only one who's scared though, Remus." Sirius' words were soft, a warm whisper of breath across the back of Remus' ear. "Knowing what's gone on…what's going one…where things are heading… After twelve years in Azkaban, finally having this freedom is frightening. And knowing that it could be taken away from me at any moment—that everything I hold dear could be taken away from me at any moment—is enough to make me want to run away and hide.     "But I can't do that. Because there are so few people left in my life that I care for, so few people I have left to protect…so few people that I have left to love."     A sob broke free, startling in the quiet night. Sirius' arms tightened as the slight body in his embrace shuddered, hot tears spilling over his hands. Had it been anyone else, Sirius would have chastised them for so little control of their emotions. But it was Remus, and having known the man as long as he had, he knew better.     He'd only seen Remus cry twice before in all the time he'd known him, after all.     The hand clutched tighter, nails digging into his flesh. "Promise me…"     "Yes?"     "Promise me that, no matter what…"     He could tell that the usually articulate Remus was struggling for words.     "That even though you might come and go, that you might change, you'll always be there?"     "That's not constancy, Remus."     "Yes it is." Remus pulled away, scrubbing fiercely at his eyes with a scowl as he turned. He hated losing control. "It's like the moon, Sirius; it's the greatest display of constancy in the fact that it's always there, no matter what phase it's in. It always comes back."     "I can't be like the moon, Moony," said Sirius, trying to lighten the mood with a laugh. He reached over, catching a last, traitorous tear on his fingertips. "That's your name."     "Fine." Pursing his lips in thought, Remus said, "Then if I'm the moon, you'll have to be the earth."     "So I'm the centre of your universe?" Sirius was grinning now, expression sly.     "…Yes, Padfoot."     "Good. Then if you're the moon and I'm the earth, we're obviously not going anywhere any time soon."     Remus began to smile in return. "Right."     "Except to bed!" With a cackle, Sirius darted forward and scooped Remus up in his arms, dashing for the house.     Remus laughed, playfully kicking his legs. "Put me down, you lout! I'm too heavy for you."     "Never!"     And then they were home, the two of them together again, at last. And there was a warm bed, a welcoming bed for once, one for two people who shared a bond of laughter, friendship, and love. And there were clothes on the floor and skin bared to the night, limbs entwined, skin relearned, and lips melded in sacrosanct union.     Later, fingers trailing through the long black hair that spilled over his chest as Sirius slept, Remus smiled as he looked out the window. _And I will be the moon to your earth, forever. Moon…Moony…la Luna._


End file.
